Part 3 (2/2)

Undo Joe Hutsko 69010K 2022-07-22

”Of course,” Mr. Armond said, trailing her. He glanced at his a.s.sociate, Ms. Olson, whose territories were the Lalique and Baccarat rooms. Reluctant to catch his eye, she pursed her lips and busied herself at her desk, addressing small, golden catalogs.

Greta Locke was Mr. Armond's best customer, one of Gump's best customers, and everyone who worked there knew it. She had spent several hundred thousand dollars at Gump's in the two years Mr.

Armond had had the good fortune of knowing her. Last year she had arranged a deal between Gump's and Wallaby, Incorporated, to purchase corporate gifts at a special quant.i.ty discount. A discount of five percent can be quite sizable, she noted to her husband, when he purchased eight Steuben flower vases last year as Christmas presents for the wives of the Wallaby board members, at four hundred dollars apiece.

She removed her sungla.s.ses and studied the curves and artwork of a large bowl displayed in the gla.s.s case. She'd had her eye on it for some time now. It was a James Houston original, engraved with painstaking detail. Circling the bowl's rim were salmon swimming against an invisible current, surrounded by tiny air bubbles. The piece was breathtaking.

”Perhaps a closer inspection?” Mr. Armond said, producing a small ring of keys. But before he managed to insert the small key into the case's lock, Greta stopped him.

”Don't bother. I'll take it.”

”A splendid piece, Mrs. Locke,” he said. ”May I have it gift-wrapped for you?”

”No,” she said, ”That's not necessary.” Without removing her gloves, she deftly slid her credit card out of her wallet and handed it to him. ”It's a gift to me. For all my hard work.” She lingered behind him as he moved to his clerk's desk. ”Anything new?” she asked, over her shoulder.

”There are some lovely new crystal animals,” said Mr. Armond, indicating one of the other cases. The collection consisted of exquisite, palm-size creatures. A dog...a cat...a bird...a bear.

All resting peacefully on a black velvet blanket.

She seemed uninterested; she'd gotten what she came for. However, as she was exiting the parlor, a little farther along the display, she saw something, reclining on a green felt pasture, that captivated her attention. Larger than the other pieces, but small enough to hold in two hands, there lay a k.n.o.bby colt, its translucent mane flared back from its muscular neck, forever frozen in the wind. She thought of her own horse, a gift from Matthew when they had moved to California. Wouldn't this crystal beauty look wonderful beside her bed, on the night stand....

She remembered her car, double-parked out front. Another day perhaps, she decided, seating herself before Mr. Armond at an antique table while he called downstairs and instructed one of the vault attendants to have the piece brought to her.

”Billy, I've worked so hard,” she said, fingering her forehead above her eyebrow. ”This is my reward.”

”Of course you have,” Mr. Armond said. ”The piece you have purchased is one of a limited number created by Mr. Houston.

He'll be pleased to know it will be enjoyed by you and Mr.

Locke.”

”People just don't know how difficult it is being married to a successful businessman. It absolutely drains a woman. I swear, I feel like half the time I do his thinking.” She removed her right glove and inspected her nails, and, as the credit card machine beeped twice, she casually turned hand over, palm up, to receive the sales slip.

Mr. Armond transcribed the approval code onto the form and handed her the pen. As she signed her name, he mentally calculated his five-percent commission on the sale: $1,200.

Ms. Olson, carrying the small catalogs in a stack that reached from her midriff to her chin, managed a polite nod as she pa.s.sed.

”Darling,” Greta called, pointing in Ms. Olson's direction with her index finger.

As the saleswoman turned, her expressionless face metamorphosed into a struggled smile. ”Yes?”

”Can I please have one of those?”

”Madam, I am certain you will receive one in the mail shortly,”

Ms. Olson said. She blinked delicately, twice.

”I want it now.”

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